


Red

by burkesl17



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Bombing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 16:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13057998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burkesl17/pseuds/burkesl17
Summary: After a bomb explodes outside the courthouse, Sonny struggles with what he does and doesn't remember and whether he could have stopped what happened to Barba.





	Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [x-sparkling-sun-x (OblivionCastro)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OblivionCastro/gifts).



> Thank you for the great prompt x-sparkling-sun, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Thank you once again to mikimoo for the beta read.

The afternoon sunlight was bright and low, hitting Sonny right in the eyes as he walked down the courtroom steps behind Barba.

Rafael raised his hand as he walked into the crowd of reporters, talking about the bravery and strength of the victim. How pleased the DA’s office was with the jury’s decision, their belief that the judge would reflect the seriousness of the crime in the sentence.

It was the sort of day where Sonny still struggled to believe that they were actually together, that Barba wanted him back, might even be starting to love him a bit. From how hot and how fierce he’d been in his closing statement, to how he’d made Sonny’s heart melt with his gentleness towards the young victims. 

He hung back a little bit, admiring him as he ate up the reporter’s questions. They had plans to go to Barba’s apartment and he forced himself to think about what he was going to cook, rather than what he was going to do to Barba after dinner.

The sun was at an awkward angle and he looked past Barba to the crowds at the bottom of the steps. The usual mix of tourists, news crews and workers pushing past them, and his mind wandered as he remembered kissing the taste of scotch out of Rafael’s mouth. 

But then, like a flat note in a perfect song, he realised there was something odd. He squinted in the sun and shielded his eyes as he focused on the crowd. There was a man, probably a man anyway, going by the height, wearing a black hoodie and hunched over wearing a heavy backpack.

The man moved closer to the press pack and shrugged off the backpack. It was probably just heavy. There was probably nothing wrong, but something was twanging his nerves, and he took a step forward, trying to see clearly. 

The man was shuffling away, the bag left by the tourists and Sonny took a step forward without thinking about it, yelling, “Get down! Everyone down!”

He saw Rafael start to turn and then the world went white. The sound was overwhelming and he was falling or flying, the pressure smothering him. There was pain then, in his head, in his ears, his back.

He was on the ground and he didn’t know what had happened. Shapes wheeled across his eyes and all he could hear was ringing so fierce it was mixing with the pain in his head so they all felt like one physical thing. Sitting up made everything spin and nausea hit him so quickly he barely had time to turn his head to side before he was being sick.

Hands trembling, head aching, he tried to focus but for a moment all he could see was shiny red. He managed to get to his feet, wobbly and nauseous, and then he realised there was pieces in the red. Limbs, people sprawled but as he stumbled forward, he saw an arm that wasn’t attached to anyone, the fingers stretched out, wearing brightly coloured rings. 

It didn’t look real, the steps were slippery and he skidded on something, something wet, and then he saw a flash of purple silk. 

Barba. Barba had been there, before the explosion. He stumbled towards the purple, he thought he was calling Rafael’s name but he couldn’t hear anything past the ringing in his ears, not even his own voice. 

But there was Rafael. He tripped on a piece of twisted metal and dropped to his knees. Rafael’s eyes were shut, his face cut and blood was soaking through his white shirt. 

“Rafael?” He reached out, trying to find a pulse, but his hands were shaking too hard. His head was spinning and he slid his hand round the back of Rafael’s neck. Everything hurt, his head hurt and he sunk down, his body not holding him up and as he pressed his face into Barba’s shoulder as everything went black.

****

“Hail Mary, full of grace. Our Lord is with you…Hail Mary, mother of God...”

The voice sounded wrong, underwater. Rosary beads clicked, and light filled Sonny’s eyes, painfully bright.

“Mom?”

He knew it was her without seeing her, and his hearing leveled out a bit as she said, “Sonny? Oh Sonny, you’re awake!” 

He blinked a few times before he was able to focus on her face. “Hey, Mom.”

She dropped kisses on his cheeks and forehead, but they were gentler than he expected and he realised she was crying. 

A heavy hand on his shoulder made him turn and he saw his Dad, leaning over him, his eyes shimmering strangely in the harsh electric light.

“What happened?”

“There was a explosion, sweetheart. Don’t you remember? Dominick, go and get the nurse.”

He remembered Barba on the steps, the sun in his eyes. And then he remembered the explosion, heat and light and red.

“Rafael?”

“Pardon, hunny?”

“My…” He stared into her eyes and his swirling thoughts began to clear and he tried to sit up, but it made his head ache even more. She didn’t know about them, she didn’t know about him, but he had to know.

“Rafael Barba, the ADA, he was there too. Do you know if he’s okay?”

She shook her head at him and he breathed in sharply, cold dread soaking through him.

“Oh Sonny, I didn’t mean...I don’t know how he is. Amanda and your Lieutenant Benson came in and said to tell you he was in surgery. I need to text them, and tell them you’ve woken up.”

Alive. In Surgery. But alive.

Doctor Patel and his Dad pulled the curtain around the bed back. He’d met Patel a few times before, but he’d always been there with a victim, never in the bed himself. He pushed back the rush of embarrassment to ask,”Rafael Barba, is he out of surgery?”

She looked confused for a moment and said, “I’ll try and find out, but I need to check you first, Detective.” 

“I’m fine.” He tried to sit up again, but the nausea hit him and he had to breathe through his nose to make sure he didn’t throw up.

“I don’t think you are,” Doctor Patel replied. She shined a light in his eyes that made him flinch and said, “Do you know what year it is?”

“2017.”

“And the president?”

“Unfortunately yes, Trump.”

She huffed a reassuring laugh and said, “That’s what everyone says when I ask that these days.”

“So, I’m okay?”

“You should be fine. You have a hard head, but also a bad concussion.”

His Mom instantly starting thanking God, and his Dad physically sagged with relief, leaning against the wall.

He tried to shrug apologetically, and she carried on. “You were unconscious for awhile though, and we want to keep an eye on you for the rest of the day and through the night to make sure there’s no after effects. You also have several cracked ribs, and you needed stitches in your leg. Can you hear okay?”

“Everything’s a bit…It’s sort of like being underwater.”

“That’s normal. There’s probably some damage to your ear drums, but that should heal up with time.”

He sank back against the pillows and his mom took his hand.

“Try and get some rest, Detective.”

“What about…”

“I’ll ask someone to come and find you with news on your ADA.”

She walked out and he squeezed his mom’s fingers as he looked at her. “Was it a bomb?”

“They think so.”

He’d seen something he thought, but it was all fuzzy. Bright white, slippery red, and the smell of burning. But he’d seen someone, a man, maybe?

“How many people died?”

His mom looked up at his dad in a panicked way, and he said slowly, “Last we heard it was eight people, but they said on the news that was likely to go up.”

Guilt swamped him and he covered his eyes.

“Sonny, it wasn’t your fault.”

He was so tired and he ached all over. He wanted to be back at home, in Barba’s ridiculously comfortable bed. He wanted to wrap himself around Rafael’s body, press his face into his neck, breathe in the smell of his skin, his hair.

But instead he was in this horrible, narrow, metal bed. And his lover was somewhere in surgery, probably fighting for his life, instead of being curled up with him.

He was so tired.

“Try and get some rest, sweetie,” his Mom murmured. He didn’t want to, but he was already sliding off to sleep.

****

When he next woke up, Amanda was there instead of his mom. She passed him some water and he saw her eyes were red.

“You alright, Rollins?”

“Am I alright? I’m not the one in the hospital bed. How are you doing?”

“Sore, but okay. Have you heard about Barba?”

She nodded, “He’s out of surgery, but hasn’t come around yet. It sounds like it pretty touch and go for awhile, he had some pretty bad internal injuries, but last time I went up his mom was sounding confident. The doctors are pleased with how the surgery went.”

“I should be with him.” His could feel tears prickling in his eyes and he turned his head to hide them.

“Hey, you need to get better too. Freaked us all out, you not talking for so long.”

They both laughed in a hollow, hysterical way and she put her hand on his shoulder. 

“Have you told your parents about you and Barba yet?”

“No. I almost have a few times, but I didn’t want them to look at me and...and dismiss us you know? Like our relationship was something dirty.”

She sighed and took his hand. He rested his head against her’s before sleep dragged him under again.

The night was restless, dreams of red and purple all blended up together every time he dozed off. Barba turned towards him, leaned over him in the dark. Their kisses tasted of gunpowder, and the beeping hospital machines sped up faster and faster until everything splintered apart into hot light that burned him. 

Somewhere a woman was crying, desperate, hopeless sobs of pure agony. He swum out of the red towards her, but it dragged him back into the horrible, wet ringing.

At some point he gave up on sleep entirely and spent the next two hours until the nurse arrived trying to remember what happened before the bomb and to forget what happened after it.

At eight, two FBI agents turned up. He’d met Eleanor Ransom before, but not Michael Davenport, and he wished he was wearing actual clothes, rather than the hospital gown. He felt pathetic, and tried not to fiddle with the blanket too much.

Ransom pulled out an iPad and asked, “What do you remember?”

“Not much, it’s a blur.”

Blur didn’t really cover it, but it was such a mess he didn’t think he could quite string the words together. He knew he had to try though and he managed, “I’ve been trying to remember, I think I saw a man, but I couldn’t ID him for you.”

Ransom sighed, “We think the bomber might have blown himself up. He dropped the bag, so he might not have meant to do it, but the people immediately next to the bomb, the only way of identifying them is going to be DNA.”

Sonny nodded and said, “Anyone claimed responsibility?” 

“Not yet. We’d have expected most terror groups to have said something by now.”

Davenport said, “We want to show you the CCTV footage we have, see if it jogs your memory.”

He nodded and Davenport pressed play on the video. He saw the crowd of journalists, a grey, grainy image of Barba talking a mile a minute, and he saw himself. He was staring at Barba at first, his hands in his pockets, and then he saw himself look up, why had he looked up? And then he was running forward, just for a few moments, and Rafael turned and then the screen went white and the video cut out.

“It looks like you saw something,” Ransom said. “You’re the only one who reacted before the explosion.” Sonny just started the video again trying to connect the memories of white and shiny red and sun in his eyes, with what was happening on the screen.

“Do you remember if it was just one person, or maybe several? We haven’t been able to ID him from the CCTV, but it looks like he spoke to someone about a block before. Probably a woman.”

On the screen he ran towards Rafael, his hand was outstretched, and Rafael turned towards him, but it was too late. He was upstairs, clinging onto life, and Sonny hadn’t been quick enough.

He started the video again. The memory of looking down at Rafael swum back to him, the sun had been hurting his eyes. And then he’d looked up, he saw himself do that, and he’d obviously seen something wrong, but he couldn’t remember what had made him start running forward, just a deep sense of wrong. And a man, probably a man, but he was just a black smudge in his memory, against the savage white light.

“Detective Carisi?” Ransom asked softly. 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t remember. I think I only saw one person, but there might have been more.”

They looked disappointed and Sonny, played the video again. Why hadn’t he looked up earlier? Why had he been watched Barba so intently? Trying to remember was like trying to hold water in his hands.

“I wish I could remember. If I’d been quicker…”

“Don’t go there, Carisi,” Davenport said sharply. “There was nothing you could do.”

They left and Sonny lay back, staring at the ceiling. Wishing himself back on the steps and doing his fucking job, rather than staring at his boyfriend. 

The morning crawled by, the pain much less than yesterday although not gone. His mom leafed through a magazine, constantly chattering about the various celebrities in the news. He let it wash over him and tried to remember, and tried to sort through what was a real memory, and what he just thought he remembered after seeing it on the video.

He knew he remembered red. And he knew he hadn’t been fast enough to stop it.

Finally Doctor Patel came back and after checking him over said he could leave as long as he went home and rested, and come back or called straight away if the pain or nausea got worse. 

His mom went ahead to his apartment to start cooking him enough food to keep his freezer stocked for a month, and his Dad quietly said he’d drive him home.

“I need to see Rafael first.”

“Rafael?”

He took a deep breath and nearly explained, but it was all too big and he felt like a coward as he said, “ADA Barba.”

“Sure,” his Dad nodded as they walked towards the lift, and Sonny wasn’t sure if he was imagining the tight look on his face.

Outside Barba’s room he pressed his hand against the door and breathed out a quick, desperate prayer before he knocked gently and walked in. 

Rafael was laying on the bed, and Sonny had never seemed him looking so still. When he slept normally he curled on his side, he tossed and turned, he snored, he woke Sonny up by and wrapping his arm around his waist. But now he was just lying there, looking pale and waxy under the hospital strip lights. His face was badly cut too, his cheeks streaked with red grazes.

He stumbled forward a few paces and had to grip the bed frame. 

“Can I help you?”

There was a woman in a chair next to the bed, who he hadn’t even noticed, getting awkwardly to her feet.

“I’m sorry, are you Mrs Barba?”

“Yes, who are you?”

He held out his hand to her and shuffled around the edge of the bed, “I’m Sonny Carisi.”

“Oh.”

She took his hand and stared at him intently. Her stare was even fiercer than Rafael’s could be as she said, “Olivia said you were hurt.”

“I would have been here sooner. I wanted to be, but they’ve only just discharged me.” He said it more to Rafael than her and gently took his hand, it was too cold. 

Mrs Barba came to stand next to him, her hand resting on the blanket. Sonny wondered if he should drop Rafael’s hand and let her take it, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

“How’s he doing?”

She explained about the internal injuries, the stitches and surgery, about anesthesia and antibiotics. 

“He just needs to wake up now,” she said with the slightest shake in her voice. “They think it will be today.”

Sonny nodded and raised Rafael’s hand to his lips.

“I wish this wasn’t how we were meeting,” he said. “I just suggested to Rafael that we get brunch next weekend.”

“And he agreed?” She sounded surprised.

“Yeah, he was going to call you.”

“He must be serious about you.”

He turned to look at her and she was staring at him again. “It’s been years since he introduced me to anyone.”

Even through all the pain that made him smile a bit. 

“I’ll give you a minute with him, I need some more coffee.”

She left the room and Sonny sank into the chair and stroked the back of his fingers across Rafael’s face, before cupping his cheek.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier, I should have been. I should have been. And I’m so sorry you’re here, if I’d been faster...But you’re going to be okay, Rafael, you’re going to be just fine. I know, I know it in my heart.”

He broke off, unable to carry on and dropped his head down pressing their foreheads together. “I’m going to pray for you, and I know you probably wouldn’t appreciate that, but I will beg God not to take you away from me. It can’t be your time, we just found each other and I can’t lose you yet.”

He turned Rafael’s face towards him slightly and pressed their lips together. Tears were sliding down his face as he kissed Rafael, and he only pulled away when he heard the door open.

And then he heard his Dad saying, “Let me get that for your ma’am.” It was too late to hide what was going on, and he couldn’t do it now, after begging God to keep them together.

He looked up, wiping his face and met his Dad’s eyes. His expression was hard to read, but he didn’t look angry or disgusted. Mrs Barba was looking between them curiously and he thought of the sheer amount of gall and balls he’d seen Rafael display over the years and said, “Dad, this is Lucia Barba, Rafael’s Mom. Mrs Barba, this is my Dad, Dominick Carisi.”

He stared hard at his Dad, willing him not to react badly, but Dominick Carisi had never been rude to a woman in his life and he leaned over and shook her hand, and asked after her son.

Sonny stood up and it made his head swim, he grabbed the bar at the side of the bed again, and when he opened his eyes again his Dad and Mrs Barba were both staring at him. 

“Sonny, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he replied but his head was hurting again, and he was suddenly so tired. “I’d like to stay awhile,” he said to his Dad. “I can get a cab home.”

Mrs Barba glared at him and said, “What did the doctor say when they discharged you?”

There was no arguing with them apparently, but he did manage to give Mrs Barba his number and make her promise to call him when Rafael woke up. He kissed him one last time and then his Dad steered him out of the room.

In the elevator he said, “Dad…”

But his Dad shook his head and said, “Save it for the car, Sonny.”

He nodded, which made his head hurt more, and he felt something like fear in his throat as they made their way through the hospital. But when two nurses ran past them, just clipping his bag leg with stretcher, which made him trip, his Dad caught him. His arm went round his waist, and then up to his shoulders as they walked on. 

He could smell his Dad’s aftershave, the same brand he’d worn when Sonny was a small child, and had hurt himself and run to him crying. The same he’d worn when he’d hugged him after his confirmation. And the same he’d worn when he’d taken him to the hospital to get stitches after Bobby Bianchi had put his face through the window. The same brand Sonny had brought him for Christmas for over thirty years.

As he leaned into him and let him take his weight for a moment, he knew that they at least were going to be okay.

In the car, it was actually his Dad who spoke first as Sonny was still getting on his seat belt.

“I’m not totally surprised.”

“No?”

“I thought maybe you were gay when you were what, sixteen? When Ricky Russo lived down the road.”

Ricky had been Sonny’s first boyfriend, although boyfriend was stretching it. They’d liked each other a lot and fooled around, but confusion and shame had stopped it going much past handjobs and kisses that tasted of the sweet, sticky schnapps Ricky had used to steal from his older sister.

“You knew about that?” Sonny managed, and his Dad sighed. “I knew that look on your face, you got it from me. But I wasn’t...good with it then. And then there were girls too over the years, so I thought it might just have been a phase.”

Sonny watched the buildings stream past them for a moment before saying, “Are you good with it now?”

The silence dragged for a moment, and turned to look at his Dad’s face and realised his eyes were wet.

“I was in the garage, working on the car, when the news about the bomb came on the radio. And I thought, ‘he can’t be there today, he’s safe.’ But even though I was thinking that, I knew, I knew you were there. And then I heard your Mom scream and there are no words for what I felt. They don’t exist. But I’d have my heart surgery over and over again for the rest of my life if it would keep you safe.”

“Dad…”

“I can’t say I’d have said this when you were sixteen, or even twenty six, but I can say today that all I want is for you to be happy, and for you to be safe. And if he makes you happy, then he’s part of the family to me.”

Sonny couldn’t speak for a moment, and then finally just managed to say, “Thank you.”

His Dad gave him a quick glance as he stopped at the lights and said, “You mom will feel the same. She might need to...work through it. But she’ll come around.”

“A few days of crying though, right?”

“Probably.”

They smiled at each other, both a little weak and wobbly, and then the lights turned green.

“You should tell her this week,” his Dad carried on, voice lighter. “I don’t keep secrets from your mom. That’s me giving you advice for this relationship, if you’re serious about it, don’t keep secrets.”

Sonny went cold, and his mouth was dry as dust as he replied, “I won’t.”

****

Weeks later, and Sonny woke up mid-afternoon, the sun sliding through windows made him blink and he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming, trapped back on the steps and shielding his eyes.

“Sonny?” Rafael asked sleepily, rolling over with a hiss of pain and stretching his arm across Sonny’s chest.

“I’m okay.” 

Rafael edged closer and pressed his face into Sonny’s neck, “You sure?”

It was Sunday afternoon, they were in Rafael’s apartment, and they were safe. They weren’t back amongst the slick red and blinding white, it was just a dream. 

He hadn’t planned to go to sleep, but Rafael was still recovering and even though he’d been grumpy as hell about it he’d fallen asleep after brunch. Sonny had meant to just to read lying next to him, but had dozed off too. And ended up, as he almost always did, drowning in the red.

Rafael stroked Sonny’s side under his t-shirt, before pulling himself up and smirking at him.

“I don’t believe you.”

Perceptive bastard.

“Just a nightmare.”

For a moment he thought Rafael was going to push it, but instead he bent to kiss him and then pulled Sonny half on top of him.

Sonny tried to push the nightmare away and just concentrate on kissing Rafael, feeling the warmth of being close to him again. Since he’d got home Rafael had been sore and still in alot of pain, and they’d had a few full blown fights, both of them frustrated and lashing out. More details had come back to Sonny as the days slipped by, but every time Sonny tried to tell him everything, guilt stuck in his throat, an infection he couldn’t spit out.

But physically at least it seemed the worst was over and Sonny kissed him harder, licked into his mouth, tangled his fingers in his hair and clung to his shoulders. He felt arousal start to flood him and pressed his cock against Rafael’s thigh. Rafael gasped and reached down to grab his ass and pushed his thigh up against his cock.

They hadn’t done anything apart from kiss since the explosion, and the kisses had generally been pained and exhausted.

He wanted it now though, and he enthusiastically slid his hands into Rafael’s pants to stroke his cock and stopped in surprise when he found it completely soft.

Rafael huffed and bit his lip, as Sonny pulled away, embarrassed to be the only one this turned on.

Barba tilted his head and looked up at him, before leaning up for kiss Sonny had to return.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen today.” He looked frustrated and stroked Sonny’s hair. “Still too many antibiotics and painkillers.”

“Hey, that’s okay. Sorry.”

Rafael was still staring at him, and under the sheets his hand slid down and cupped Sonny’s hard cock.

“You don’t have to.” 

But he wanted it, wanted it so much as Barba undid the button on his jeans and pushed them down. His palm was warm and soft as he began to stroke, and Sonny moaned and closed his eyes.

“That’s it, baby. I want to do this to you, with you. I want to make you feel good. And you never have to apologise for wanting me, for being turned on by me. You have nothing to say sorry for.”

It was like being punched in the stomach, because he did, he truly did. To all the people who had never walked away from the steps that day, to the ones who were re-learning how to do basic tasks and function with prosthetic limbs, to the loved ones grieving. And to Rafael, who he loved, and who was maybe learning to love him, and who had been torn into and left bleeding and sore because of him. 

“Stop.” He grabbed Barba’s wrist and looked right into his eyes.

“Sonny?” Barba asked, pulling his hand away. He looked so worried, and it broke Sonny’s heart even more.

But the guilt and red were flooding him and he blurted out, “I’ve got to tell you something, I can’t do this with you until I have.”

Rafael’s face shut down. He looked blank, and that was never an expression Sonny wanted to see on his face anywhere, especially in bed, but he was dreading what he might see next.

He shifted closer and cupped Rafael’s cheek, terrified that this was the end of something so precious to him and that this would be the last time he’d see him this close. There were lines under his eyes that hadn’t been there before, a twist of pain around his mouth that was never entirely gone, more grey streaking his hair, and all of it just made the knot in his stomach ten times worse.

“It’s about the explosion.”

“What?” Barba just looked confused, and Sonny cuddled closer. Felt him breathe and put his hand over his heart to feel it beat.

“I saw the man with the bomb. But I wasn’t quick enough to warn everyone in time.”

“Sonny…”

“And I didn’t see him earlier, because I was staring at you. And I was staring at you because I was thinking about sex with you. And so because I was thinking with my dick, all these people died, and you nearly died and you’re still injured and...I can’t take that moment back.”

He ran out of steam and let his eyes fall closed, unable to look at Rafael’s face. 

Rafael didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he felt fingers gently stroke across his cheek, and touch his lips and brush his hair off his forehead.

“Sonny, look at me.” His voice was gentle, but firm and Sonny reluctantly opened his eyes. The expression on his face was soft, but so sad, and he leaned forward and kissed him.

“It was not your fault.”

“But…”

“No.” His voice was harder now and he pushed himself up on his elbow and leaned over Sonny.

“Sonny, you aren’t a security guard. There wasn’t any intelligence there was going to be an attack, you had no reason to be looking out for anyone.”

He couldn’t look away from Rafael’s eyes.

“Did they show you that CCTV footage? The one where you start running forward?”

“Yes. That’s when I realised what happened.”

“That started you feeling like this? You didn’t see what I saw. When I saw that tape, I saw you running forward, the only person trying to warn anyone. And I saw myself turn towards you, and I started to duck.”

He was looking at Sonny expectantly, but he still didn’t get it and Rafael rolled his eyes. 

“And what looked like camera equipment went straight where my head had been. If that had hit me, I wouldn’t be here.” He paused and took Sonny’s hand, folding their fingers together.

“Sonny, you saved me.”

And for the first time since he’d woken up in the hospital, he felt like he could breathe.

He curled right up against Rafael, just breathing him in as he tried not cry. He wasn’t completely convinced, but he believed Rafael believed it. 

“I love you,” he whispered.

Rafael’s hand, which had been tangled in his hair, stilled and then tightened again as he kissed Sonny’s forehead. Sonny managed a small smile against his neck. Then Rafael said quietly, “Have you slept without dreaming about it since it happened?”

“No.”

“You need to see that therapist Liv keeps talking about.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, talking about this just hurt too much, and Rafael carried on.

“Sonny...you can’t keep carrying this. It’ll drown you.”

“I suppose I could talk to my priest.”

Rafael snorted softly in his hair and said, “You need to talk to a professional therapist who specialises in counselling people after traumatic events, who hasn’t known you since you were born.”

Sonny stretched out across Rafael’s chest, making sure he wasn’t putting any weight on the injuries. “I don’t know if I can talk about it.”

“You have to try.”

It was the tone that got to him, rather than the words themselves. He sounded so worried, almost hurt, and Sonny nodded against his chest. 

“I will.”

They lay there quietly for awhile longer, before Rafael stretched and got out to bed to make coffee. He paused in the doorway and looked back at Sonny, the sunlight caught him, softened him, and Sonny couldn’t help but smile as something that might be hope sparked inside him.

“You know I...I love you too?”

There wasn’t any red and fierce white, just golden light and the warm green of his eyes as Sonny walked across the room and kissed him.

“I know.”


End file.
